I urge my heart not to be a fragile thing
Tears must have escaped me more times than I care to bring
I try to shout that am not diseased
My voice from my throat is seized
Can't speak, can't explain anything
Where does one run when they wish to go missing
To hide from a world that refuses to shield
Searching for a home that's not pain-filled.
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29th November 2025.
YOU ARE READING
MIDNIGHT MIND
Poesíawriting words that the heart utters The thoughts the minds ponders The verses the mouth is too ashamed to mutter
